The Firebrand Alchemist
by Literature work
Summary: Colonel john low had enough paperwork to age him to eighty, but a certain arson case catches his attention and with the arrival of two strange alchemists, he can't fight the feeling that their connected. Will the country be able to handle the case? John soon finds that all of their troubles run deeper than expected. Please review.
1. Chapter 1: Paperwork and Bullets

The Times of Trial

CHAPTER 1

Paperwork and Bullets

The hallways of the Midtown Military base were completely empty. People were away on holidays or visiting family, even the dormitories that normally stood crammed with young soldiers was frightening silent. John Low was one of the last few people on the base for the weekend, and he was completely swamped with work, most of which was filing, or cleaning up his office. He carried a box of old cold case files and walked down the vacant corridors to the storage room. It was large and dusty, probably hasn't been sifted through in ages, but John wasn't going to start now, he had too many things to do. As he walked, his shiny black boots made clapping noises on the tile floors and echoed throughout the hallway, they sort of felt out of place in the silent, white building. As he pulled out a key to open the locked storage door, a cry broke through the tranquil hallway.

"Colonel John!" a voice screamed out to him. It was so sudden that it made him drop the keys and box of files to the floor, scattering papers everywhere. John moaned in exhaustion and annoyance and turned to glare at the person.

"What's it this time Lieutenant Parkinson?" he groaned as the girl bent down with him to pick up the spilt paper work. Several files were spilt out over the floor mixing contents and scattering any hope of an early leave that day.

"Did you get the fuher's letter about the recruitment promotion?"

"No. I might have been able to find it if I searched through the jungle of an office I have," he said flopped down on the floor next to her. His hands started to massage his temples in frustration. Parkinson gave a soft chuckle at him, which made him even more annoyed.

"Maybe if you did your paper work when it actually was supposed to be done, or actually filed anything for once, you might not be in this mess."

"What did the paper say," he mumbled trying to get back on topic. His day didn't need any more reminders of how slow he was when it came to paperwork.

"The Feuher wants you to be at the station tonight at 5:00 for the recruitment table. It is supposed to promote awareness for jobs in the military to the citizens in the city." Parkinson stuffed the lasted of the unsorted files back into the box and dropped it on the Colonel's lap. He let out a groan as the dead weight dropped on him.

"I thought Sergent Gordon was supposed to do that today," he looked up at her throwing daggers, but she simply threw some back at him.

"Sergent Gordon is sick. He caught the flu yesterday and is taking bed rest."

"How about Major Tonks?"

"Overtime."

"Officer Charleson?"

"Grandmother died."

"Chaplin Petters?"

"Night Service speech with the Veteran Society. You are the only one open for the job tonight along with Major Bolden." The Colonel let out another groan and got to his feet shoving the box under his arm.

"What about you?" He asked suspiciously. She pinched the bridge of her nose in frustration.

"If you read the schedule that I gave you, you would know that I have Basic Training with the newest Recruits. It was a job that you of all people, assigned me specifically," She let out her own exhausted sigh that nearly knocked John over as he was trying to stand. When he finally managed to get himself vertical, he gave the Lieutenant a halfhearted salute.

"You are dismissed Lieutenant Parkinson," he sighed nearly dropping his work for the next four hours. As Lieutenant Parkinson made her way to the training fields, John gathered his things and sulked back to his office. Boxes and stacks of paperwork covered the walls and the floor of his office. It looked more like a maze than a workspace. He wished he could blow up his office to smithereens along with all the paperwork inside of it, but he had to refrain. John made his way over to his desk and clumsily shoved all of the other papers onto the floor along with the rest. The box was set down with a thud on the wooden surface, dust flew everywhere.

"Well, you really got your work cut out for you tonight, Colonel," He huffed to himself and started to pick his way through the vanilla folders.

The cold case files, as John Low recalled, were organized by class, type, number of suspects, and data. This was all simple enough for him to handle, for all of the vanilla folders were clearly labled and organized. However, all of the contents spilt out and were all mixed together. John had to sift and match every paper to every case individually. This was going to take a while.

As he was picking through the piles, something crashed through his window and whizzed over his head. The Colonel jumped into the air from the start and turned around, knocking the half organized box back to the ground. A bullet whole was spider webbing itself through the glass of his window. He carefully opened it and glared out at the training fields where he saw the Lieutenant yelling at the new recruits in their P.E. uniforms. One held his gun awkwardly and shirked away from the Lieutenant's shouts.

"Parkinson!" John yelled down at her. His partner immediately went into a salute followed by the rest of the soldiers on the field. "Watch your recruits! Keep their aim away from the buildings! That's the second time this month!"

"Yes sir!" She shouted back at him. "It won't happen again!"

"And you," John shouted out at the young man who was obviously the culprit of the stray bullet. "I advise you to keep your safety on while you handle your firearm, otherwise you should think strongly about taking a desk job!" Before the recruit could answer the colonel shut the broken window. 'It's time to get these windows bullet proofed.' He thought to himself, but that was paperwork for another day.

As he turned back to his box of scattered papers, he noticed a couple pictures poking out of the pile of work. He carefully picked them up along with the rest of the files and set them on the table. One of the pictures was of two young girls, looking about nine or ten years old, with dark brown hair and grey eyes. 'Probably siblings,' he thought to himself. Though the two girls looked completely innocent and normal, John caught a certain look in their eyes from the photograph. It was a look that only veterans from the Dunlasian war wore. Dull, worn, and frightened. As he liked to say all the time, a person's past can only be truly described through their eyes. These girls obviously weren't normal for their age.

As the Colonel pondered over the pictures, a knock rattled his office snapping out of his cloud. "Come in," he said sternly as he placed the photographs off to the side of his desk. The door swung open swiftly and attacked a pile of files, sending them cascading to the ground. The colonel let out a small breath of suppressed anger as he watched two more hours add themselves onto his work day. The man in the doorway walked carefully over to the colonel and saluted. "At ease Major Bolden," he mumbled sitting back down in his chair and picking up a few more papers.

"Colonel, it is nearly time to be departing for the train station. We should be departing shortly," he said calmly. John looked up at the statue of a soldier. The major's mass nearly touched the ceiling and could easily be confused as a brick wall. His curly red hair acted like a beacon, or a warning.

"Bolden, it can't nearly be time for that yet, and if it was, I think that I would be able to make it down to the train station by myself," he said back to him, failing to mask his overly tired voice.

"Sir, it is quarter till five, and Lieutenant Rosy Parkinson informed me that your vehicle is currently in the garage for repairs. So if you please, we should be departing." The Colonel glanced around his desk trying to find his clock. He saw a suspicious lump underneath a pile of files that was giving off the faint tick tock. John let out a small moan.

"Time flies so fast when you don't want it to," he mumbled as he stood up from his office chair. The Colonel grabbed his military coat and his white gloves and put them on. He glanced out his window at the training field where his coworker ran through an obstacle course with the recruits. Knee deep in mud, she still had time to keep him on schedule. "So, Lieutennant Parkinson has got my back again," he sighed deeply. John made the mistake of looking at the Major, whose eyes started to sparkle with emotion. John gave a huff and walked past the towering soldier. Bolden got so tearful about everything emotional. Just as the Colonel stepped out of the office, the Major tackled him into the hallway in a firm hug.

"Oh John!" he screamed as tears started to run down his face. "I saw the bullet hole in your window! I hope everything is alright. Just think of what would have happened if that damned stray piece of led would have hit you! It must have been so frightening for you! You could have been killed!" Tears fell down onto the suffocating Colonel. John started to claw at the major's grasp.

"The only thing that is killing me is you, Bolden. Get off me!" John gasped. Obeying his commanding officer, Major Bolden stood down. If it wasn't for rank, he would have continued his emotional breakdown until the Colonel's kidneys were bruised. Bolden wiped the tears out of his eyes and started to straighten his curly red hair.

"Sorry Colonel," he apologized. John waved him off.

"It's fine," he mumbled as he started to head down the hallway. He was not looking forward to his evening at the station with Major Bolden.

**Sorry for this update, I just misplaced a name. AS I would like to point out these characters are not supposed to directly link to the manga. That is why I changed the names and some of their appearances. Though their role and characters might be like one from the manga, I wanted to throw twists in characters and plot. This is all to avoid flames. This fanfiction is supposed to be based on the ideas of FMA not the exact plot line. **


	2. Chapter 2: The Train

CHAPTER 2

The Train

"I will call your bet and raise it a centon," Fernandina called out as she dropped a few more gold coins onto the lot. So far the lot was up to about 20 centons, and Fernandina was running down to her last coin.

"Are you sure? I don't want to see your face when you lose," Riven said boldly over the muffled clatter of train wheels. She put the rest of her money on the pile and shuffled her cards around in her black gloved hand eager to place them on display. "I wonder what I should do with the winnings. Maybe I could buy a new coat, or some books. Surely you wouldn't have any need for the money anyway," she teased, balancing herself on the edge of her seat. Riven looked into the eye of her sister, which glared out from underneath her golden armored helmet. "on the count of three," she called as the two sisters readied their hands. Their chairs reeked of enticement as the two girls sent eager glares at each other. "One."

"Two," Fernandina followed squirming a bit in her massive armor. Her cards gleamed in her golden gauntlets with the destruction of her sister's game.

"Three!" they both called out together. Riven threw her cards down on the table to reveal a straight. Fernandina's hands were carefully placed down on the table as a straight flush showed itself one card at a time. It seemed like every card was a slap to Riven's face as her sister grabbed the pile of loot. She gave out a loud moan as her head fell to the table. "I thought I had you there!" Her choppy white hair fell down around her face.

Fernandina gave a small chuckle as she pocketed the money in a leather pouch at her side. "I guess cards is just like sparring, sister. I always come out on top."

"Not without a few dirty moves, you don't!" Riven's muffled voice called out from the table. As the two sisters bickered back and forth on the matter of games, money, and cards, the train bounded towards Midtown Central Station, away from their country home of Arrington. The passengers on the train were travelling for hours on the rickety track and were quite relieved when they heard the whistle cry out, warning them of their approaching destination. Midtown barreled into view with its wide, tall buildings. Fernandina gaped out the window at the site of the city. Neither of the girls ever been to a large city before, not to mention Midtown itself. When the city started to tower over the train, it was quickly whisked away by the station's cover.

Riven moaned as she was awaken from her nap by her grey eyed sister. She slowly massaged her face and ruffled her white hair, just to get up and shuffle along with all of the other passengers out of the train. Her little sister clanked down the steps in her chunky golden armor, towering over all of the other people in the station. Everyone gave strange stares at her, but thought nothing of it. Riven hobbled down the station after her, her stature belittled by the massive suit. A small suitcase was clutched in her hands.

The station was cluttered with people and luggage making it hard for anyone to get anywhere. Riven waddled down the way with an elbow in her ribs and someone's suitcase in her ear. She grumbled to herself as a case whipped around and smacked her in the back of the head. Fernandina walked through the station with no trouble, as everyone parted away for her huge figure. A suppressed giggle left her mouth as she looked back at the trouble her sister was getting into. Somehow she managed to get her long green coat caught on the back of a luggage trolley, hanging her a foot off the ground. "Sister, stop hanging around!" Fernandina laughed and pulled her off with a swift movement of her arm. Riven grumbled as she brushed the dust off of her coat, resituating it on her back. As she bent down to grab her bag, she noticed that it simply wasn't there anymore. Stifled yelps and screams came from the crowd around them as a dirty man started to make off in a rush, throwing people off to the side. In his hand he flung around a jet black suitcase. Her suitcase.

"HEY!" she yelled after him, forcing her heavy legs into a sprint. The crowd was rapidly parting from the race. The thief ran off to the south corridor as Riven and her sister pursued him. Several times the man tried to stop them by throwing obstacles, sometimes even people, in their way. Fernandina gracefully hurdled over the obstacles, even in her bulky armor, while Riven tripped and stumbled over a few overturned suit cases. They chased the man all the way through the station, catching the sight of a few military and police officers. Riven picked up her speed as they started to get towards the exit. She was nearly on top of him. Her hand was barely touching the tails of his coat, when the man swung her suitcase around towards her head. Her head dropped ducking under the brick, but her feet stumbled a bit, tripping over each other. The man gave her a sly grin as he raced away with her bag. As Riven fell towards the ground, she punched her hands together and hit the ground. A large grin was born on her face as purple electric started to spark with the morphing ground. A large wall protruded from the ground right in front of the man. His body slammed into the slab of earth and he fell to the floor, tossing the suitcase across the way. Riven tackled the man as Fernandina raced up to her to help. Fernandina pried her sister off the thief and placed one of her heavy boots on the dazed man's chest pinning him there.

"Riven, couldn't you have taken him down without defacing the station? Look at the mess you made!" Fernandina scolded him. They looked over their shoulders to see overturned luggage and confused and battered people. Riven merely shrugged it off. With a pound of her fists and a flash of electricity, she put the station floor back to its original form.

"It's not like we did anything wrong. What are they going to do, arrest us for tipping over a few suitcases?" she huffed. Right behind her, she heard someone clear their throat loudly. Riven jumped in the air and spun around to see the chest of a tall black haired officer. His blue military uniform was adorned with medals and pins, while his black eyes glared down at her.

"You two, Come with me," the man's deep voice commanded. He grabbed the girl by the shoulder and escorted her out of the station, while a couple officers dealt with the grumpy thief, who didn't like being on the short end of the stick.

**Okay CH2 done! yay!. Next up CH2 part B! can't have just one POV in this situation now can we? Fernandina is not hollow! Just wanted to make that clear. You will find out why she wears armor in later chapters, but I just don't want flames. Yet again I want to say this is not a direct plot or character connection to the manga. Though the character resemble and act (to a point) like the ones in the books they are not. this will become more clear in the later chapters. **


	3. Chapter 3: The Alchemist

CHAPTER 3

The Alchemist

Colonel John Low sat behind a table in the east end of the train station grumbling to himself. Their table was cluttered with enlistment forms and informational pamphlets on alchemy. Though most people already knew that alchemy was the deconstruction and reconstruction of matter, they had a giant pile of pamphlets especially made for that one person who didn't. It was a long day at the station, many people were rushing to get somewhere or another. Whoever happened to stop by the table to see what the soldiers were handing out, usually were scared off by the Major's passion and emotional connection to his job. It would usually begin with a normal conversation, then end with the Major crying about how lovely it was for people to stand up for their country. John knew that their chances of finding eligible alchemists were slim and even slimmer to find one that actually wanted to join the military. While no one was being drawn to their beautiful display of patriotism, and Bolden's tears, John quickly pulled out some unsorted files that he snagged from the office. Though he wasn't supposed to take documents out of the Military base or government compound, he didn't want to waste all of his time waiting for an alchemist that would never show up. He sifted through the pile of papers until he found the picture of the two girls. They looked as innocent as ever, but it was worrying the Colonel a bit that he couldn't find one file that would match the picture's description. There were several cases that involved women as victims or suspects, but none of them described anything about two little girls. As the colonel was skipping through the files, the major caught site of the picture and snagged it from his hands. John reached out desperately for it like the photograph was his life line, but the Major was too tall and strong for him to do anything about it. Bolden simply turned his back to the colonel and studied the picture.

"Major Bolden!" John irrupted as his demands were going unnoticed by a lower ranking officer. Major Bolden, hearing the demanding plea of his Commanding officer and longtime friend, turned around with a tear in his eye. The colonel took a few steps back from the Major, who looked like he was going to have another episode. "What is it Bolden?"

Major stifled a tear as he passed the picture back to his C.O. "Those are the girls from the cold arson of Arrington."

"What about it?" John asked softly, trying not to make the bomb go off. He glanced at the picture a few more times, the two girls looking back at him.

"It was so tragic!" the Major said so softly he was barely able to be heard above the echo of the station. "Someone set fire to the town house that these two girls and their father were living in. It was thought to be an accident, but no fire can do what happened to the two sisters."

"What do you mean? What happened to the girls?"

"It is all in the files," the major quickly shut down. "All I can say here is that the father was nowhere to be found and the girls were left homeless with no other family." His voice was hushed and faded into the screams of the crowd. John snapped his head up in alert and looked around the station. Several travelers were being tasseled about and luggage flew around in the crowd as three people raced through the station. An ugly looking man raced by their table grasping a piece of luggage. To the Colonel's surprise, the man quickly upset their promotion table, throwing it in the way of two people chasing him. One person wearing a long green coat and slick black pants nearly tripped over the table as they tried to hurdle it, landing clumsily on the stone floor. They quickly shot off from the ground and raced past the colonel in a flash of white, screaming curses at the other man. Sprinting along behind the first one was a golden suit of armor, who strangely enough, cleared the obstacle with ease. The armored tower, quickly yelled out several high pitched apologies as it plowed down through the crowd of people. The soldiers were left in a dazed confusion as the train of chaos pranced into the multitude of travelers. When the Colonel finally snapped to, he pulled his gloves on tighter and grabbed the major by the shirt collar.

"Come on Bolden!" he commanded as he started to race after the group. The two soldiers caught up to the three runners quickly due to their military training. John tried to get a clear view of the man they were chasing, but too many bags of luggage and people were being tossed about. They chased the people from the east end of the train station all the way to the south corridor nearly exiting the station, when all of a sudden several flashes of electricity shot out from the ground around them. A giant wall grew out of nowhere and the man ran smack into it, sending the suitcase flying down to the ground near John's feet. The two figures tackled the man, and the suit of armor pinned the pitiful human being there with his foot. The Colonel noticed that the green coated figure, bore choppy white hair fixed into a bun. As they turned around to grab the suitcase, he also noted that it was not in fact a he, but a teenaged girl. Despite her rather bulky and masculine clothes, of black cargo pants, black leather boots, and a heavy green coat, the teenager still bore the subtle features of a girl her age. She raced over to the suit case and brought it back to her armored friend, who still had hold of the thief.

"Colonel," Bolden said behind him, "What are we going to do about this?" He motioned to the chaos of the station. Couple people were glaring at the officers and girls who pushed them over in the high speed chase, while others groped around trying to find their lost luggage, which by now was probably halfway across the station. Though the colonel had to admit that this little adventure was much better than waiting around at the promotional table, he gave a sigh.

"It's okay, major. I got this," he huffed as he walked up behind the girl, with his thick black boots clicking the uneven stone ground. He stood above the two kids as he cleared his throat, startling the girl. The green coated girl leapt high in the air and spun around to face him. Her grey eyes looked at him in shock and anger. John almost let out a gasp as he saw her eyes. Pain and torture flickered through them. "You two. Come with me," his deep voice said sternly.

**So here is the POV of the last chapter. So repetitive, but so thrilling! YaY! will try to get the next chapter up by the end of the week. Please review or promote. Tell your friends, tell your wives, tell your uncles, babies, or nieces. If you absolutely hated it, tell your enemies. I just love to hear feed back.**


	4. Chapter 4: The Conference

CHAPTER 4

The Conference

Colonel Low abandoned all hope of the promotion table and dragged the short girl through the train station and into a small empty waiting room. He left Bolden to sort things out with the thief. John didn't have to worry about taking the armored friend along with him because it followed like the girl's obedient dog. As he threw them into the small room, he closed the door behind them. The windows were clouded so they wouldn't be interrupted, or overheard.

"Sit," He commanded them. The armor immediately obeyed, while the white haired girl stood in defiance. John almost forgot they weren't in the military, so they didn't need to answer a commanding officer. He has been spending too much time in his office. With a huff, John got on with his little interrogation. "How did you learn to do alchemy like that?" The girl slumped down in a chair and pretended to be preoccupied looking out of the clouded window. John walked over to the two people until he stood towering over them, casting shadows over their faces. "Who are you."

The armor one, being more polite, or open, answered him. "I am Fernandina Victorian, and this is my older sister Riven Victorian," the armor rang out in a high feminine voice. The colonel felt like he was hit in the face. The last thing he expected was that inside the suit of armor, there was a teenaged girl, and that she was in fact, the younger sister. When John looked at the girl again, he noticed that the helmet revealed the left side of her face, which bore kind grey eyes and a few stray strands of long black hair. The right side of her face was completely covered by a thick shield of golden armor. The armor she wore was not bulky like a man's armor, but it rather looked custom fit. When you really look at it, John could see that it did fit snug to her body and revealed a few curves here and there. What really scared him was the fact that this girl couldn't be any older than twelve and yet she had a massive long sword tied around her waist. As the Colonel studied them a little bit, Fernandina gave a little worried look and whispered, "Um, is everything alright?"

John snapped out of his little coma and got back to business. "Yes, yes," he waved her off as to settle her worried look. He started to pace around the small dim room. "Where do you two come from? Where did you learn to do alchemy like that?"

"We come from a small country town called Arrington, we traveled here to pick up on some research and maybe see the library," Fernandina answered politely. Riven grumpily elbowed her in the ribs, just to smack her elbow off of the sleek metal wall. She grabbed her elbow in pain and glared at her sister.

"That's it Fernandina. Let's just tell this man everything! We don't even know who he is!" She scolded her little taller sister.

"I am Colonel John Low the Fire Alchemist of the Centrilian army," John identified himself to them. He then walked up to Riven and pointed one of his gloved fingers in her face. "Now tell me, what did you do back there in the station?"

Riven stared at the finger pointed in her face for a little bit, noting the transmutation circle inscribed onto the back of the glove. She looked the Colonel up and down and then a smirk crawled upon her face. "It's called science, Mr. State Alchemist. I shifted the floor of the station into a wall. I didn't do anything wrong. It's basic alchemy."

Low glared at her, "I know it was alchemy, but I wanted to know how you did it without a transmutation circle."

"Don't we all," Riven chuckled dryly. Something flickered through her eyes, but it disappeared immediately. John gave a huff as he got up and started to pace again in thought. He walked back and forth for a little bit until his eyes fell on the vanilla folder, he forgot he was carrying. With a quick glance at the girls, he opened the folder and took out the picture of the girls from the arson fire. He glanced back and forth from the picture to the girls who were eyeing him suspiciously. Their eyes surely were the same color, but their features were all off. For one, the girl had white hair and the other had black. Fernandina was way too tall to be the same tiny girl in the picture. And these two were all but defenseless. There was no way, the two Victorian sisters were the same two from the arson, but then again, their eyes.

"Why are you looking at us that way?" Riven snapped, annoyed at the constant glances the officer was giving her, but he just shook his head and placed the photo back in the vanilla folder.

"Sorry, I just remembered something," He mumbled back to her.

"If that is all Colonel Low, are I and my sister free to go?" Fernandina asked him sweetly. He nodded and let them out of the door. He lead them through the station to the exit. The chaos that the crowd was put into earlier seemed to die out as the majority of the travelers were boarding their own trains, so it was much easier to walk down the platforms. When the soldier got to the end of the road, he hailed a cab for the two girls. Fernandina thanked him politely, while Riven jumped into the car with a huff of annoyance. John was about to let the two girls be, but then turned back towards them before they could shut the door.

"You two said something about a library right?" The armored girl just nodded back to him. "Try the Midtown Central Library on Main Street," he advised. After John closed the door to the cab, he walked back into the station. His shift still had three hours to go.

**Yay intenseness! How's that for suspense? Probably too much foreshadowing but hey, don't expect everything to be a secret! what fun would that be right? Please review, spread the news. I have updated and will again later.**


	5. Chapter 5: Housing

CHAPTER 5

Housing

John Low sat at his desk organizing and signing the last final mountains of paperwork. It has been only a couple days since the mayhem of the station. The thief suffered from a bit of trauma from what happened in the station and from Major Bolden's interrogations, so the military let the weak willed being off with a warning. The events just left the colonel with more paperwork. Whenever John would get up to take a break, Lieutenant Parkinson would be waiting at the door to make sure he didn't try and to escape his paper prison. He tried to escape from his office a couple times, but he just received a gun to his face held to his head by his subordinate. After his escape plans were shot down, John just tried to get as much of the work as he could finished. After several hours and many cases of writer's cramp, the colonel's office was finally free from its paper avalanche. As he laid the pen down on his desk, he gave a heavy relieved sigh and massaged his face in his hands. John silently vowed to himself never to get that backed up in paperwork ever again. What grabbed John's curiousity was that he still couldn't find any trace of information on the arson case Major Bolden was talking about, even though he wiped his office clean.

It was noon, so John grabbed his coat, and after reassuring the guard that all of his paperwork was completed, took all of his subordinates out to lunch. Chaplain Petters, Officer Charleson, Sergent Gordon, Major Tonks, Major Bolden, and the lieutenant all followed John out of the compound and to the city market. All of them were still dressed in their uniforms since their shift still wasn't over. They walked for a while, looking around and debating different restaurants for them to eat at, when they decided just to take a small lunch at a nearby café. It had a couple tables outside on the street where the seven of them crowded around. Sergent Gordon kicked his feet up on the table, despite the groups arguments, and lit a cigarette. The smoke rose to the sky around his light hair.

"Gordon, putt that thing out! You're going to kill us all with that habit," Major Tonks complained as she whipped the free floating smoke away from her face. Gordon just laughed at her and blew another cloud of smoke in her face causing her to cough. Charleson leaned over and flicked the cigarette out of his mouth.

"Sorry that I stay with tradition," Gordon mumbled.

"Hey Lieutenant," the Chaplain said pushing his large glasses up over his brown eyes. "Did you find any new recruits interested in taking the State alchemist exam?" Parkinson gave a little chuckle at the hope that rang through the Chaplain's voice.

"Petters, if you keep praying I bet there will be someone or another who would try to take the test, but my recruits are nowhere near as talented. There are only couples that practice alchemy and most of them are too scared to sign up for the exam with that serial killer out on the loose out near Bentsworth. I couldn't imagine anyone stupid enough to sign up now knowing that it'll just make them a target." Rosy let out a little sigh. "In fact there are less state alchemists out there now than there ever was. If there aren't any new recruits soon, there won't be any left by the time we are all out of office."

"Well, I will just put in a good word next Sunday for all of them folks out there. Someone is bound to show up eventually. Maybe they just don't know it yet," Chaplin Petters said calmly. He looked over to where the Colonel was sitting and noticed that he was not talking at all. John just stared out towards the streets, his black eyes curious and clouded in thought. He gave a slight chuckle at the sight. "Low has an amazing skill to focus on his work."

"Try telling him that when he's doing paperwork," Charleson budged in.

"Not with his paperwork, but things that actually seem important to him. Remember when the state was going to cut Chaplains out of the military?" Everybody just gave a silent nod towards their friend. Before continuing, he scratched his brown haired head, "John wore that exact same look while he figured out a plan to keep me with a job. I just wish I knew what he is thinking about right now."

The waiter brought the group's food out. They all devoured the arrangement of sandwiches and soup as soon as the plates touched the table. The office only allowed them to have an hour for lunch, and they all needed to get back as soon as possible. The seven of them chatted a little back and forth about recent events, and about Major Bolden's amazing adventures out in the east (narrated by himself). When the check came around they all started up another argument about who was going to pay for it. Gordon wanted them all to split it amongst the oldest of the group, pointing his finger at officer Charleson, while he wanted to place the bill on the lowest in rank among them, shoving the check back in the Sargent's face. A little into the argument, Lieutenant Parkinson made them split the bill by a complex equation of rank, age, and height, which somehow ended up giving the Colonel the entire thing. After the food was paid for and their departure made, John pulled Petters off to the side of the road leaving the rest of the group to find their own way back to the base.

"Colonel, where are we going?" the Chaplain asked in his soft heavenly voice as the two of them winded their way down several side streets and alleyways.

"Nowhere Rabbi. I just want to talk to you about something," John said quietly as he parked themselves to the side of an old inn/pub. The only thing that disrupted the awkward silence that the Colonel placed upon them was the muted voices coming from inside the bar.

"What did you want to talk about?" Petters asked him innocently, slightly worried about what John had to say. It never took him this long to say anything to him, and he usually wasn't pulled so far out of the way to be talked to. John just stared back at him with his eyes burning in all seriousness.

"Robert, you said a while ago that you went with a travelling missionary down in the south, am I correct?" he asked. Petters was a little taken aback by what the colonel was asking him. Even though he was the chaplain, it was rare that the colonel would actually talk to him about religious matters. Most alchemists were agnostic, especially John Low. The colonel swiftly took out a picture that was folded in his pocket and handed it to him.

"I want you to tell me all that you know about the arson in Arrington," he commanded, though Robert could hear the slight plea in his voice. When the chaplain looked down photograph, he let out a small gasp at the little girls that gazed back at him.

"I know these girls!" Petters gasped. "They were in my youth group when we stayed in a small church a little outside Arrington. They were little at the time, maybe six or seven, but they really loved to come and listen to my sermons. It was actually, this one," he said pointing to the younger of the two, "that actually dove into my sermons. She was interested in everything, especially angels as I recall. Her sister however, only liked to come for the stories. She was an atheist by her book, but came with her younger sister all the same." He finished his little flashback and handed the picture back to the Colonel, who quickly put it away. After a little pause, Petters asked curiously, "But what do these two girls have to do with the arson in Arrington?"

"Everything," Colonel stated flatly. "Now Robert, is there anything else you know about any of this? What were their names? What happened to them after the fire?"

"I frankly don't know. I can't quite remember the girl's names, they're not that common to begin with, but I can tell you this. After the fire, they stopped coming to my sermons. I thought that they died in the fire, but nobody was found. They just disappeared." Robert Petters face was grave and his tone was thick with mystery. It scared the Colonel to think that a religious man such as the chaplain could ever get that serious.

"Are you sure you can't remember anything else?"

"Well, no. The missionary left the town only a couple days after the event. We made sure to pay visits to the family, but since there wasn't any that made the trip short. It is a shame what those girls had gone through. I just hope the lord is looking after them right now," he said quietly and casted a silent prayer up to the heavens. All of a sudden, something flew through the large window in the pub. Glass shards shattered everywhere and the yells and screams from the pub grew immensely. A green coated figure stood up from the pile of rubble and brushed glass off of herself, just as a large golden lump flew out the same window and crashed on top of it, flattening the person to the ground. The owner of the inn and pub ran out the door and started to scold the two people.

"If you can't pay, don't stay!" The fat greasy owner yelled at them and ran back into the pub in a huff. The two figures, which the Colonel now recognized as the Victorian sisters, crawled over to the curb and sat down silently. John and Robert quietly walked up to the two of them, casting their afternoon shadows on the girl's faces. The Chaplain sat down next to the fully armored Fernandina, sort of in shock.

"What do you want?" Riven growled grumpily at the Colonel. He stared down at her with a stern glance without saying a word. The Chaplain, however, couldn't keep himself together.

"Are you two alright? You flew through a window!" He panicked and started to scour the two girls for any injuries.

"Get off me!" Riven scolded as she pushed the investigating priest off of her. "I am fine. That wasn't the first time I was flung through the window," she mumbled to herself.

"You two really like to get yourselves into trouble. What happened this time? Or were you just window shopping?" the Colonel grumbled half annoyed.

"John do you know these two?" the Chaplain whispered quietly into his ear.

"Unfortunately, we had the chance of meeting before. These are the two girls from the train station. The Victorian sisters, Riven and Fernandina," the Colonel introduced them. Peers looked at the two girls like they slapped him in the face. Carefully, Robert stepped towards the two girls on the curb and bent down to their level. He studied them for a while. His eyes studied them through his large round glasses. Grey caught onto brown, and he let out a small gasp.

"Could it be?" he whispered almost in audible to the wind itself. "Could it really be the girls from my sermons?" The girl's eyes stared back at him in the awkward silence, showing only a hint of horror as he stared at them so closely. But Robert just brushed off the feeling and stood up with the colonel, but not without taking a quick look back at the girls. The colonel, stood straight in front of the two girls.

"Come with me," he commanded them softly. Fernandina rose to follow, but Riven sat on the ground with a little bewilderment.

"Why should we go with you?" she yelled at him defensively. John, who had already taken a few steps back towards the base, peered back over his shoulder.

"I heard you needed a place to stay." He said flatly and continued to walk away. The small girl and priest soon followed.

**SUSPENSE! okay enough suspense. Lets get on with this thing. Please Review! I want to know how things are going so far. Yes, I did put a chaplain in the story because it reminded me of MASH. It is not a crossover, I just really like the chaplain in MASH. he seems like a nice guy. **


	6. Chapter 6: Office Spaces, Familiar Faces

CHAPTER 6

Office Spaces and Familiar Faces

Riven and Fernandina walked through the bustling white corridors of the Midtown Military base. They followed Colonel Low like sheep towards what was supposed to be his office. Chaplain Robert Petters had to go to a short meeting with the Atheist Society, so they were left alone with the Colonel. Several of the officers were running around in their blue uniforms and papers flying around the hallways. The two girls once witnessed a couple of soldiers collide with each other, sending their entire stack of work to the ground. Though every officer in the building seemed to be on a rush to get somewhere, they still seemed to have time to stop and give a few curious glances at the new visitors. Whenever Riven would catch someone staring at them for a little too long, she would give a menacing glare back at them, sending the soldiers on their way. Though the hallways were large, they were crowded, making it harder for Fernandina's large stature to get through the tiny gaps of space between the soldier's chaotic parade. She stumbled into a few people, sending them sprawling to the ground in a cloud of white paper. It wasn't until she knocked at least five of the little blue people down that they finally learned to clear a path for the large golden stranger.

John led the two girls down the many spiraling hallways and up a few flights of stairs until he was outside the two large wooden doors that led to his crew's workspace. He stopped outside for a moment and turned towards the two girls, giving them an overlooking glare.

"My subordinates and I have work to do. I expect that you two will behave yourselves until we figure out where you will stay for the time being," He said in his strictest voice. His eye contact did not falter one bit as he stared down at the white haired girl. "Whatever you do, don't touch anything, and don't provoke my subordinates. They don't need any distractions." Riven and Fernandina nodded gravely at the tall dark haired man. After being given another look over, the two girls slowly walked into the office area.

As soon as they stepped into the room, they were sent ducking for cover as a chair came out of nowhere and collided with the wall where their heads once were. Papers and desks were overturned, and chairs cluttered around the office spaces as the group of officers ran around screaming and yelling at each other. This is not what Riven expected a military office to be like at all. The colonel looked confused, and slightly surprised only for a mere second until he stood up and scolded his subordinates. "ATTENTION!" he yelled with his deep unwavering voice. All of the officers dropped what they were doing and saluted their commanding officer. One dark haired boy dropped a heavy box of files, while doing so, and it landed on a blonde haired man's foot. He winced at the pain, but did nothing other. "Explain yourselves," John commanded. The sisters were amazed at how much control the Colonel had over his subordinates, because they immediately started to blurt out random answers in defense. John pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration as the sea of words jostled together. "Quiet!" he commanded and they all immediately shut up. Low turned towards a blond haired girl who was the only one who didn't blurt out an answer. She looked completely strong against the Colonel's power, unlike the other babbling buffoons in the office. "Lieutenant, care to explain why I so recently had a chair chucked at my head?"

She gave a stiff nod. "Someone brought a dog into the building sir," she answered firmly. It was just then that the three of them noticed that a dark haired woman was holding a tiny struggling puppy in her hands. It pawed at her grasp and she constantly shifted her arms to keep a hold of the little black dog. "And you know how Charleson gets around dogs," the Lieutenant added. It was then that Riven noticed a dark haired man in the corner shaking in fear. He was holding an umbrella like a sword ready to hit the beast if it came near him. Riven gave a little snicker at how a military soldier could get so overwhelmed by a tiny dog. The colonel just shot her a glare and returned to his subordinate.

"Charleson either pull yourself together or go take a walk," John ordered. Charleson gave the Colonel a stiff nod and started to etch his way across the wall to the door, making sure to keep the most distance between him and the dog as possible. When he finally made it safely out the door, all the people in the room seemed to relax a little more given the fact that they weren't in a battle arena with a frightened Charleson. The colonel then turned to the Lieutenant and asked, "Who let the dog in here?"

"We don't know, "she answered simply. All of a sudden a loud cry was heard from the hallway. Everyone turned their head to the door in alert.

"Beowulf!" the voice screamed. They heard something crash to the floor and a moment later their door burst open. A young man, no older than 20, was panting in the doorway, his uniform tossed about and out of order, and a pair of big glasses hung awkwardly on his face. He dripped with panic as his eyes darted around the room looking for something. They didn't rest until they caught sight of the dog. With a loud sigh, he walked over and took the black puppy from the girl's grasp. "So this is where you ran off too, Beowulf," he muttered to the puppy that immediately licked him in the face playfully. The entire room just stared at the newcomer with surprise and disbelief. "Hope he didn't cause too much trouble for you," the man said ignoring the fact that files were scattered everywhere and several pieces of furniture were broken to pieces. John stepped forward and addressed the man.

"Cadet, keep better care of your animals. The military doesn't need any more distractions, let alone any more paperwork," he said pointing to the blanket of white on the floor. The man blushed a bit in embarrassment.

"What's your name cadet? And who is in charge of you?" Just then it was like a light bulb clicked on inside the boy's head. He reached in his pocket and fumbled with a wrinkled pink slip of paper. He handed it to the Colonel with a small smile.

"The names Henry Jordan, sir. My commanding officer is you," he said happily. Everyone in the room gave a small groan to welcome their new co-worker. The Colonel just gave a little chuckle.

"So you're a newbie, I knew when I told you to get a desk job you would, I just didn't expect it to be with me," he said cheerfully. John then turned back to his team, "I expect this place to be cleaned up as soon as possible. Get Cadet Jordan a desk." He started to walk to his separate office then turned around. "Cadet Jordan, make sure these two don't leave or disturb anyone until I'm done," he commanded before he slammed the door to his office. Everybody went about their business cleaning and picking up papers. Riven huffed to herself and plopped down in one of the chairs that wasn't smashed to bits. Fernandina sat down on the floor next to her sister with a clunk as her armor hit the tile. She untied her sheathed sword from her waist and laid it beside her. The Cadet glanced down at the two strangers just noticing that they were definitely out of the ordinary. "Why do you wear all that armor? It must be at least an extra fifty pounds to carry." He asked innocently as he too sat down on the floor opposite of the two girls.

"It's a hobby," Riven grumbled lazily at him. Fernandina just replied with a happy nod.

"And it keeps Riven from hitting me too hard," she joked.

"Hey!" Riven called as she slapped her sister across the head, just to slam he hand into the golden helm. The Cadet laughed a little at this. Riven slowly stood up and stretched her back out. She ran her hand through her hair, finding a few pieces of stray glass. She nearly forgot that she broke the window of that inn. Well that's what that keeper gets for kicking them out when they had enough to pay for their stay, well most of their stay. As Riven took a step forward, he leg creaked. Beowulf started to growl and lunged at her foot. As his teeth sank into her leg, she didn't even flinch, but instead started to scold the dog. "Get off me you stupid dog!" she said as she shook her leg trying to get the dog off. The black little dog just clung onto her leg. Everyone in the room looked at her in surprise. The Cadet was pacing around her trying to get man's best friend off of her without getting kicked in the face. He was apologizing all the while he was doing this. Riven bent down to the dog and gripped if by the belly and yanked. Beowulf let go and was handed eventually back to his master.

"I'm sorry, he doesn't normally act like this!" he apologized for the twentieth time. "He usually does lash out unless he is attacked, or something's wrong." The dog was still growling in his hands, but Riven just gave it a menacing glare. The brown haired girl ran over to them.

"Are you okay?" she asked. Papers were still in her hands as she started to bend down to look at Riven's bitten foot, but she pulled back.

"I am fine. It was just a puppy after all."

"But we should still try to look at it in case something was damaged," she pushed.

"Major Tonks, leave the girl alone. The dog couldn't get past her boots," the Lieutenant said from across the room, not looking up from a stack of papers on her desk.

"No wonder, Charleson doesn't like dogs," she heard the blond man mumble from his desk in the corner. "It is just like me and women."

"Don't listen to him," Major Tonks said to them. "He's just grumpy that he can't get a girlfriend." The Victorian sisters gave a light smile. "Oh I almost forgot! My name is Major Oliveria Louise Tonks, but you can just call me Tonk. I am the technical expert on the team." She started to point around the room to all of the soldiers listing off their name, rank and job. "That's lieutenant Rosy Parkinson, she's the Colonel's right hand girl. She is in control of weapons and training for the recruits." She pointed towards the blond haired man. "that's Sargent Gordon, expert in transportation and current affairs, failure in relationships." With that the Sargent grumbled at them and unfolded a newspaper to hide his face. Next was the extremely tall and super built red haired man. "That is Major Bolden. He is a state alchemist along with our Colonel. The Boulder Alchemist is what he's called." Just then Bolden marched up to them and gave Riven a bone crushing handshake. She didn't flinch, but her face was distorted a bit from the pressure.

"It is so nice to meet you, young lady! I heard so much about you young alchemist! I am always so glad to meet another scientists among the people!" he said to her, not letting go of her hand. Riven could have swore she saw a small tear in the corner of his eye, but she wasn't sure. She pried off the man's hand and massaged her arm.

"You were at the train station correct?" She asked. He just gave a nice nod.

"Yes, when I saw you and your sister running through the station, I was terrified, but then you were amazing with your alchemy skills. Such talent!"

"Wait, you know them?" The team basically said at once.

"Why yes, these are the Victorian Sisters."

**Hey! Finally got this chapter up. Stupid AP's soaking up all the valuable time to write. At least it is the weekend. This is just a link chapter to introduce characters. Sorry no suspence :( I will try to update as soon as possible. Hope y'all like it. Don't forget to review!**


	7. Chapter 7: Renting with Truth

**Okay, before you read this I have to warn you that I updated this. Since there is no real time that I can fit a good explanation in before tomorrow, I placed it in here. AND NO FLAMES! this isn't supposed to be a stupid chimera mix, no, no, no. I don't write those. There is a very good explanation that will reveal everything from before to this point, but it will come in later chapters, maybe 9 or 11. Just remember what Petters said in the previous chapters. remember.**

CHAPTER 7

Renting with Truths

Riven and Fernandina Victorian were in the office for four hours before the Colonel came out. They managed to get all of the paperwork cleaned up and fixed all of the furniture with the help of alchemy within the first hour. Cadet Jordan was finally given his desk in the space across from Charleson. They all new that this wasn't the best decision but it was the only available place and no other officer wanted to move theirs for the new Cadet. Beowulf was quiet and cheerful like normal, but Charleson, who returned by now and was not happy at the least with their new recruit, sent menacing glares at the tiny dog and its owner. A couple hours into their wait at the office, Riven and Fernandina got bored, and started chatting a bit with the soldiers. When they told them that Riven was only thirteen and her younger sister was twelve, the officers were all surprised, but didn't push to far into it, of course however, they were all wondering why they wore such weird clothes. When Gordon commented on Riven's clothes being too masculine, she spit out in explosive anger yelling at the Sargent for calling her a boy. In the end, the sisters managed to get the soldiers out of their work long enough to play a short game of treasure hunt using Sargent Gordon's cigarettes. Everyone loved to watch the Sargent run around the office, fumed about losing all of his smokes.

When Colonel Low finally stepped out of his office, he wasn't surprised to see the two girls laughing at an angry Sargent. After a little time to discuss sleeping arrangements for the Victorians, it was decided that they would stay with him for the time being. Though no one, not even the other officers, were too thrilled about the final decision John Low had the biggest house and therefore had enough space to house the girls. After saying goodbye to the team, the Victorian sisters followed John to his car, and were swiftly carried away to his house.

It might have been that every building around the Colonel's house was built for a mouse, but the size of the mansion was mind boggling for the sisters. The house was built with a grand marble staircase and a couple of pillars in the front, almost made it appeal as a palace. The Colonel unlocked the double doors with a small grumble and walked into the dark mansion. The inside was almost as miraculous as the outside, with fluffy red carpet lining the living room and stairs to the second floor. The ceilings were raised high above their heads and decorated with a shiny gold chandelier. The furniture in the house was definitely old, but comfortably used and didn't make the entire building look like a museum instead of a living place. Riven gave out a small whistle at the sights, while John tossed his keys on the table near the door. Fernandina looked down at him.

"Surely you can't afford this place with a mere Colonel's paycheck." She said to him innocently.

"Yeah," Riven added checking out a fancy Xerothian vase on the nearby table, "Was your family royalty or something?" John just gave out a sigh and started to walk tiredly to the center stair case.

"My father gave me this shack when he died," John said flatly. A flash of sadness flashed through all three of their eyes in the moment of silence that followed. After a few seconds the Colonel continued, "You will be staying in a couple of the guest rooms. I suggest twelve and seventeen which Benjamin turned for you two. Dinner will be in ten minutes, and the library is next to the living room. We will discuss plans for tomorrow, since it is my day off, at dinner. I expect you to be there at time." He said sternly. As he turned to go up the stairs, Fernandina piped up.

"One question," she said. "Who's Benjamin?" John just gave a small chuckle and continued to walk up the stairs.

Without looking back he replied, "Benjamin's my butler."

…

Riven and Fernandina both stayed in room seventeen. It was large with two single beds and separate writing desks and a single bathroom. Fernandina took the bed to the left, while Riven dropped her heavy black suitcase on the right. When she sat down on the fluffy surface of the bed a wave of exhaustion it her. She didn't even realize how full their day was, running from place to place with the Colonel, don't even forget being thrown through the window. There was a clock on the mantle of a small fireplace in the corner, it chimed half past six with its merry bells. The sun was barely visible among the horizon outside of their west facing window. Riven heard a loud clatter as Fernandina dropped her sword on the floor. Her black hair was now hanging freely as she took her helmet off of her head. The metal gleamed with the distant sun, but her eyes shone brighter in the darkness. Fierce grey orb burnt out in the dim room, while she held her other one tightly shut. A scar ran across the right of her face barely missing her closed eye. "Riven," she said innocently, "I can't stand to wear the helmet anymore, the heat is burning."

Riven sat up in her bed and looked through her case. A red and white bandana lay crammed in the corner. "I guess it would be really hard for you to eat with that on," Riven chuckled as she got up and walked behind her sister. She hated to admit it but she had to stand on her tiptoes in order to tie the bandana around her eye. When she was done, Riven took a step back to examine her work. The red bandana was draped over Fernandina's right eye and was held firmly in place by a square knot. Though it would be odd to see a girl wear that, it was better than making her sister wear a helmet that she could barely see out of.

"How's that?" she asked her. Fernandina gave her a happy nod as she gazed into the mirror. It has been a long time that she looked at her face without the helmet on. Her hair was a little matted down from the constant pressure on it, but it softly framed her face and illuminated her eye. Now that she really looked at herself, she almost forgot how different she looked than her sister. They were like complete opposites; tall, short, black hair, white, calm, determined. There was only one thing that was the same between them, their eyes. A small wave of despair flickered through them. Fernandina noticed that Riven looked almost sad when she noticed her studying herself in the mirror. She decided to give a little laugh to cheer her up.

"Why didn't we do this sooner?" she chuckled, and Riven joined her. Just then their stomachs growled. The clock rang quarter till and they ran down the stairs to dinner. They were already late.

…

It was 6:45 when John heard the girls come down the stairs. They were five minutes late, but that gave him a few more seconds to finish up reading the Midtown Daily. John propped his shiny black boots up on the table and flipped the page. His dining table was large, as was the room itself. There were enough chairs to seat fifteen people, but only two were used in the past twenty years. The few dishes on the table kept the room from looking vacant, but still made it feel small, unused, alone. When the girls marched into the room, he didn't look up from the paper. John heard the little girls sit down. One of the chairs screamed under the weight of the person, who he guessed was Fernandina in her armor. The doors sung open from the kitchen and Benjamin brought out three bowl of clam chowder.

"Sir, please keep your feet off the table," Benjamin said calmly through his white mustache. As the colonel obeyed, he folded and slapped his newspaper down on the table. A steamy bowl of chowder was presented in front of everyone in the room, making their mouths water and their stomachs ache. John inhaled the steam and slowly started to eat. Benjamin went back into the kitchen politely and left the guests all in peace. It wasn't until Fernandina's quiet voice spoke up through the depth of the silence, that John finally looked at his guests. What startled him was that Fernandina was not wearing her helmet. Even though it was logical for her to have to take it off at some point, he didn't expect it to be then. He tried to push the fact away and focus on what the young girl had to ask him.

"Mr. Low," she said quietly but John held up his hand in protest.

"Call me Colonel Low, or Low. Do not call me mister, it makes me feel old," he mumbled.

"Oh, Colonel then. Why do you have a butler if you live by yourself?"

"Benjamin has been a friend of my family for years. I didn't have the heart to fire him. It isn't really a job, per se, because we share the house. He is definitely a big help with the cleaning and upkeep of this old place," he said calmly. After a sip of his chowder, he looked up to see the girls giving him weird glances. Riven then piped up from chugging down her soup.

"You two aren't…." she started to imply but John slammed his fist down in annoyance.

"No! Just friends. He's like as old as my father would be anyway! I'm not that old!" he said defensively. Riven crossed her arms as her own defense and slumped down in her seat. Fernandina laughed a little at this. It was then that John noticed that she had her eye covered by a bandana. It was surely strange that she had her eye protected at all times, even her helmet covered it up. The group fell into silence again and ate their soup quietly. Benjamin came and took their bowls away the soft clinking of plates disturbing the awkwardness of the room.

"Well," John said clearing his throat. The two girls looked up at him alarmed with the sudden noise. "Now that you're going to be staying in my house for the time being, I need to set a few rules. You must not run, scream, fight, argue, break, or do anything of the sort inside my house. Do not disturb me in my study, and do not go into the attic. I guess that since you are still here, you will be needing research so I asked a couple of my subordinates to take you to the national library when I am at work. Tomorrow we will be going into the market place to pick up a few things," he said watching the girl's heads spin with orders he gave them. After that he stood up and grabbed his newspaper. "I am going to be going to my study, if there is anything you need, don't hesitate to keep it to yourself." With that he walked out of the dining room leaving the girls to their business.

After a couple of moments, Benjamin came back into the room to finish clearing the table. "He's like that." He said calmly to the stunned girls. He picked up a few of the dishes making tiny clanks as they were stacked. "When he has his mind on something he doesn't like anything to disturb him. He must have faith in you two to let you stay here with him. He doesn't like company to begin with so this is surely something new for him." He left the two girls in peace as he returned the dirty plates to the kitchen. Riven leaned across the table to Fernandina.

"I just want to know why he took us in to begin with. None of this could benefit him in the least."

"Yes, that is what I was thinking too. Benjamin said that he didn't like company so that's obviously not it. Maybe it is because he just wanted to do a good deed?"

"He's in the military, good deeds aren't their sort of thing." Riven rolled these thoughts around in her head for a little bit until her head hurt.

"Uggh, this is so annoying!" she said standing up from the table. A loud and audible creak sprang into the air and Riven nearly buckled over falling on the table. "Ow," she mumbled as her head smacked off the table. Fernandina nearly jumped over the table to help her.

"Sister, are you alright?" she panicked trying to help her sister stand, but she just pushed her off.

"Yeah, it's just my leg again. It has been acting up lately."

"Gabe told you to keep care of it you know. You haven't been keeping up have you?" Fernandina asked though she knew the answer. Riven just glared at her throwing a couple of dull daggers. She hit her left leg in three points and stood up as if nothing happened.

"I guess we are going to have to get a few things in town then," she said as they made their way to their room.

It must have been Benjamin, who laid a couple of pajamas on their bed for them to wear. They were just a couple of overly large flannel shirts and some old pants, but it was still a nice gesture. Fernandina grabbed her clothes and ran to the bathroom while Riven was left in the main room. She carefully got changed into the red plaid shirt, which ran down to her knees, and slipped on the pair of pants. They were a little too big for her so she tied the tails of her shirt around them like a belt and rolled the cuffs up. Her toes stuck out from underneath the fabric as she gripped the fluffy carpet with her feet. Her left foot's cold steel sparkled underneath the moonlight. Riven gave a small exhausted sigh as she threw herself on her bed and inspected her creaky leg. As she pulled back her pant leg, the mechanical muscles revealed themselves to the light and sparkled in the night. She ran her soft skin along its cool surface as she flexed it, trying to figure out the problem. The gears and wires were all dry and worn, in need of some major oiling. She knew that already though. She knew ever since it happened at the office. Metal limbs were not hard to take care of, all they needed was oil, but she hated it. The cold vortex she was forced to use. In the winter it sucked all the heat from her body, and in the summer it burnt her like a fryer. The fact that she couldn't feel anything didn't help. Her senses were retained to only pressure when it came to her leg and her right arm. Riven carefully took the black leather glove off of her right hand to inspect it. It was in the same condition as her leg, but since it wasn't under constant pressure, it seemed to hold out. As a moonbeam reflected itself off of the metal in her eyes, fire was lit in her mind. For a second all she could see were flames, and a single grinning smile baring its teeth back at her. She quickly covered her hand back up and shoved her head down on the pillow. Her eyes were focused on the large plain ceiling of the room.

"Riven?" her sister's soft voice called out from the bathroom. She just turned her head towards her direction to see that all of her armor was off and her blue flannel shirt was clumsily piled around her body. The pants she was wearing were too short and rose halfway up her calves. "Could you help me?" she asked sweetly. Riven got up from her bed ignoring the screams of her leg, and followed her sister into the bathroom. Golden pieces laid everywhere around the tile floor her red under armor and belt were draped over the tub. Feathers were scattered everywhere on the floor. It wasn't until Riven got into the light of the bathroom that she noticed her sister was in pain. Her face was slightly pinched at the corners and her back was tense. Two huge distorted lumps were folded down against her back underneath the shirt. Little white dots poked out through the shirt and Riven gave a little sigh. With a punch of her hands she touched the flannel shirt and formed two large holes in the back of it. Almost instantly the two large masses burst out them and engulfed the tiny room greedily. Feathers flew everywhere and knocked Riven to the floor. "Sorry!" her sister apologized quickly and helped her sister up from the ground. "It was just so long since I got to move them around! Keeping them inside my armor makes them sore," she said as she massaged her gigantic white wing. They fell along the sides of her body framing her tall physique. The tips of the plumage just barely touched the floor with their white heavenly light. Riven couldn't imagine how it must hurt to keep them crammed in a small tin can for an entire day, let alone for the week that they were traveling. When it comes to two giant wings there aren't a lot of places that you can conceal them. Riven rubbed the back of her neck tiredly.

"I guess the armor isn't made to fit them, but it is the best we can do. Let's clean up the floor and get some rest," she said almost yawning. As the sister cleaned up the floor Riven felt a small twinge of regret every time she picked up one of the piles of plumage. Her sister was turned into a freak, and it was all of her fault. Her sister couldn't step outside without being covered in heavy armor. If anyone saw her like this, who knows what would happen to her. She could at least be set off as a cripple, Fernandina was a science experiment. To be left like this, even if their lives were still intact, was torture. God must hate them, Riven thought.

After the bathroom was cleaned up, and the plumage tossed into the burning fireplace, the girls hopped into bed, her sister's wings fluttered under the covers until they settled down comfortably. The moonlight casted its light into their room and over the emptiness it held them in. Riven took one last look at her sister, who was sleeping silently as ever. She was going to change this. She was going to fix everything so that they didn't have to hide anymore. They would be able to live normal lives, she promised. As she sent her vow silently up to the moon, her eyes fell heavily to her pillow and sleep over came.

**I promise everything will reveal itself. Don't get the wrong idea about this. **


	8. Chapter 8: Files and Scavenger Hunts

CHAPTER 8

Files and Scavenger Hunts

The clock ticked by minute by minute. Every sound that whispered from the old grandfather sounded like a hurricane through the silence of the study. John Low sat at his desk surrounded by piles of paperwork. Even though it was his day off tomorrow, he still sat opening folder after folder, searching, and sorting. This was his personal studies. The room was lit by only a dim lamp which casted long shadows along the book cases and his work area, making it hard to read the tiny scripted crime files. Though the Colonel could find many cases that sounded like the arson that Major Bolden and Chaplain Petters described, they were all false leads. It seemed like the file that he was looking for just disappeared. The only thing that kept John reading these void cases were common words that were strung throughout them. _Smoke, flames, children, white, light, blood, monster._ These words were definitely strange to have linked through several unrelated files. As John studied them, he came across one that was about a kidnapping a few miles away from Arrington. Supposedly a young boy was taken from his home late one night and wasn't found until someone picked him up off the road few towns over. They claimed him to have run off, but the boy was describing a flaming white monster that came out of a ray of lightning to kill him. Trauma was claimed and the case was void. That case had the most descriptive tale of the monster that John read. It seemed hallucinogenic.

When the clock stroke eleven the chimes hollered throughout the house causing John to leap out of his skin. He wiped a bead of sweat off of his brow and started to pack up his papers. He got almost nowhere in his work, and he'd have to get up early tomorrow to head for the market. It seemed like everyone around him knew more about this mysterious arson case than he did. As the chimes started to ring out again for a second round, it dawned on him. John lunged out of his seat and strangled the phone out of the receiver. He managed to knock over the lamp on his desk turning out the little light he had but he ignored it, punching in the numbers blindly. The ring sounded only three times before someone picked it up on the other end. A voice growled out from the other end.

"Low, go to bed it is eleven at night," Rosy's voice called out. He heard a stifled yawn draw its way across the line.

"Lieutenant, where are the files to the Arrington Arson case?" he commanded. A gasp came through the phone and John knew she was getting her work attitude together. He only called her Lieutenant at work or in emergencies. This was an emergency.

"Colonel, they should have been with the rest of the files that were going to the archives. The Fueher filed it himself," she replied. He could still hear the tiredness in her voice, but she covered it up well with alert and serious action.

"Do you know where in archives?"

"Colonel, where else would a cold case arson file go, but in the fire department's records. Third isle, second block," she said. John could have hit himself in the head for not realizing that in the first place.

"Thanks Lieutenant." John was just about to hang up the phone when he heard the voice give another cry, and he quickly put it back up to his ear.

"Colonel, I almost forgot to tell you. The fuerher is missing some of your paper work that you were supposed to file on Wednesday. Find it." John hung up the phone without saying anything more. Parkinson was going to have his neck about calling her so late, but he didn't care. He had a lead again. He was going to find this case even if he had to dig through piles of paper work. He was going to find it even if it killed him.

**Okay sorry for the short chapter, but loose ends must be tied up. For people who like short chapters, your welcome. For people who like longer chapters, next one will probably be about six times as long as this, maybe longer (sorry short reading folks). **

**by the way sorry for not updating for a while, but I was making a scarf and was a little caught up in it... literally. Next project is the next chapter. The project after is a crochet umbreon plushie. Booyah. (I am a nerd and I am proud).**


	9. Chapter 9: It's What You Need

CHAPTER 9

It's What You Need

John hated weekends, especially Saturdays. There were always too many people out and about for their own good. Everyone pushing, shoving, yelling, and slowly walking to their destinations, is all to obnoxious for John to handle. It seemed to be worst at the market place than in his own office with Charleson and Jordan duking it out. This Saturday was specially crowded as if the entire city got out of their houses just to annoy him. John would usually send Benjamin out on these little market trips, but he needed to run a few errands which would give him the perfect excuse to go to the Library for archives. Unfortunately, errands come before paperwork, so John had to make a few stops before his visit to the Library. He needed to go to the tailor's and get a new uniform fitted, and he also needed to go pay the bill for his car which he recently got out of the garage. Along with his own errands, the Victorian sisters decided to add a couple places to the list. One of these stops was a black smith.

The mechanic was located at the far end of the square, a little out of the ways of the fancy china shops. It was a dark broken down shack. John saw the irony and didn't like it. As they approached the shack, they noticed that several people stood outside of it waiting in a line. They held many different obscure objects that had nuts and bolts hanging out of the sides. Everyone had to break everything today. John took the girls and stood in the back of the line. The line shrank really fast. A lot of the people who walked into the store were immediately kicked right back out on the curb. Only a selected few got into the shop and got what they needed. This made John a little nervous. If the shop owner was that picky of who he serves, the Victorians might not even make it to the door. Before long they were next in line. The man before them with a broken axil sat on the ground in front of the door rubbing his sore butt. Landings were never generous.

The three of them stepped into the dimly lit shop. It was cluttered with dangerously low hanging ceilings which made Fernandina have to crouch to fit in the room. Several fires blazed in the back of the store with a different amount of metal ore in them. A tall thick figure stood behind the flames hammering away at the reddened metal, trying to morph it into a stake. John approached the figure, cautiously and cleared his throat with a strong hum. The Black smith spun around whipping the hammer at her customer. It hit the wall not five centimeters from his head. John's eyes narrowed.

"I am Colonel John Low," he introduced them, not ripping his eyes off of the mechanic. "These are the Victorians; Riven and her younger sister Fernandina. They need a couple of things." There was a long pause as the four of them stood glaring at each other, as if dominance would declare itself. The Black Smith gave a harsh chuckle as it's figure moved out of the shadows towards its customers. The figure's once thick looking shadow turned out to be a strongly built woman. Her long black hair was tied up underneath a blue bandana and her hands were covered in large fireproof gloves.

"Let me guess," she said a little too harsh for their taste. "Miss Tin Can over here wants a magical shield to match her golden attire. Or maybe she wants some extra trims for her thick helmet." The Smith chuckled sarcastically at them. "I don't do that around here so you might as well leave. I don't give anything that people don't need." As she turned around to go back to her metal work Fernandina held her hands up to flag her down.

"Oh, No!" Fernandina panicked as she tried to lure the black smith back to them. "I'm not the one who needs the repairs!" The mechanic stopped in her tracks and turned around, her eyebrow raised at an angle. John did the same. He was positive that Fernandina was the one who needed the repairs because she always wore all of that metal. Fernandina pointed down to her older sister to answer their unasked questions. "Riven is the one who needs them, not me," her sheepish voice answered.

"And what do you need little girl?" she asked Riven sharply. Her tone only slightly improved.

"a can of oil," Riven retorted checking the smith up and down.

"For what?"

"If we can talk in private, I will show you," she said not without her sly smile creeping onto her face. The smith looked almost taken aback by this but after seeing that the little white haired girl was serious she gave a little snort.

"Come with me." The black Smith led Riven back behind a tattered curtain to the back room, leaving her sister and the Colonel in the shop. It was a dark room, just like the first, but smaller. It had a small round table and a couple stools around it. The smith motioned for Riven to sit, and she obeyed. The stool creaked as she sat down, but so did the rest of the house. The Smith sat down across from her and pulled out a cigarette and lit it. The tip of it casted a small light across her face through the dusty room. After a few puffs and a stream of eerie silence, the smith looked up.

"So, show me," she ordered. Riven immediately kicked her left leg up on an adjacent stool, ignoring the loud screams it made which obviously startled the smith, and pulled up her bulky pant leg. The auto mail caught every beam of light in the room and absorbed its gleams making the cool silver metal shimmer even in the dusty room. The mechanic picked her foot up so suddenly Riven was almost tipped off of her stool. She studied the leg in utter amazement, not tearing her eyes off of the intricate design for once second. Nearly twenty minutes passed while the girl was examining her automail leg until she finally spoke.

"You don't want oil," the smith stated plainly. "You absolutely need it. How did you let your own limbs get into such bad condition, I don't know, and I frankly don't care, but you absolutely must get something to lube them up." She put Riven's leg down and rummaged through a few cabinets behind her. Several bottles of fresh automail oil were pulled out and set on the table. The Black smith, to Riven's surprise, started to oil her leg with the lubricant. After a couple of seconds went by, Riven pulled her sleeve up and started to apply oil to that herself. This only caught the slightest attention of the black smith, but she paid no heed to it as she finished up with her leg. When the fresh smell of oil hung in their lungs, Riven tested out her freshly lubed limbs. They didn't scream, or even whisper a word to her as she swung them around.

"Wow. I should get these things oiled more frequently," Riven said amazed at the ease she moved with. "Do you think I could buy some oil to go so I could do this at home?"

"You better," she replied tartly. "I sure as hell am not going to be doing this every Saturday." The smith rummaged through the cabinets again and pulled out several more bottles of oil and handed them to Riven. "Here you go. That's enough to last until Christmas. Apply it once a week, unless the weather is wet then make it twice or three times a week. I will only charge you for the stuff you are taking home. The lube is on the house."

"Thank you!" Riven said, but the black smith just glared at her.

"Don't you dare expect this act of kindness. It is just business. I supply people what they need, not what they want," she threatened and pushed Riven towards the door. Just as they were about to pass through to the other room, she pulled the white haired girl back in for a second. "Don't mind me asking, but how did someone like you end up with a pair of those?" Riven was taken aback by this and started to fumble with words.

"It…it was …." she started but then stopped to think. The black smith caught something flicker through the girl's eyes. Immense sorrow. She knew the feeling too well. The black smith just gave a reassuring pat on the back.

"It's okay," she said. "You don't have to tell me if you don't want to, but if you ever want to talk just tell me." Just then the she lifted up her own pant leg to reveal a small shimmer of metal. Before Riven could say anything, she used the delay of shock to push the girl through the doorway into the main room where her friends were waiting.

"Did everything turn out okay?" the Colonel asked the two of them suspiciously. Riven just held up the cans of oil and nodded, still a little shocked about what happened. After they paid for everything, the three customers headed for the door of the shop. Riven lagged behind and paused at the door to look back at the smith who was starting up her wielding.

"What's your name?" she asked quietly, but she didn't look up from her work. With only the sound of clashing metal to follow her out the door, Riven made her exit.

**Sorry it took a while to get this thing up. This is only a section out of their market day. I might edit a little bit just to make this chapter run a little smoother, but this is the basics of the plot. Nothing will change that. The reason why I couldn't post this sooner was because I was running. Literally. For ten miles. So y'all can guess that I am absolutely exhausted. I will try to get a few more chapters up by the end of the week.**

**stay fresh y'all**


	10. Chapter 10: To Catch a Pig

CHAPTER 10

To Catch A Pig

Throughout the market, the Colonel was running his errands, not with the most success. The three of them managed to get lost on the way to the tailors three times, even though the sign was basically painted in florescent pink with the words 'Madam Seaming's Seams and Sewing'. It was an overly decorated store, to say the least. The customers were nearly blinded by pinkness, which was a gift to the viewer as to avert the eyes of Madam's fashion attempts that were hanging on tortured manikins. Though Madam Seaming was a terrific tailor and seamstress, it was questionable about her fashion design. It was an unwritten law in Midtown that one should never let the Madam attempt anything that isn't cautiously mapped out and coordinated, for the end result would be disastrous and shimmering in unwanted amounts of glitter. The three of them were greeted at the door by a jolly woman with needles and spools hanging out of her tall messy bun. Riven began to think that the needles were attached to her head, as the way they moved when the Madam shook their hands was unnatural and a bit disturbing.

"Madam, I am here to get my uniforms fitted. Now if you would so kindly as to help me," the Colonel said to her in his most official tone. The cheery seamstress's face was immediately shattered with a piercing cry.

"HEROLD!" her voice scratched their eardrums like nails to a chalkboard. "THIS YOUNG MAN WANTS YOU TO HELP HIM!" A muffled groan was heard in the back room. A thin elderly man came out and started to grab a few items from various drawers, not too happy with his wife's screaming. Madam turned towards the Colonel and ushered him off towards her husband. "I assure you that my husband will do the fitting for you as fast as he can. We don't want to keep you and your sons waiting," she said kindly. John's knees buckled at her last comment. He nearly fell to the floor laughing as Riven started to bellow and rage at the elderly woman.

"WHO ARE YOU CALLING A BOY WHO'S SO UNLUCKY TO HAVE HIM AS THEIR FATHER, TO WHICH GOD GAVE HIM MERCY AND MADE HIM HAVE NO RESEMBELANCE TO HIM WHAT SO EVER? I AM A GIRL!" Riven growled at the old lady. She almost leaped onto the Madam like a starving cheetah if it wasn't for Fernandina holding her back. The Madam cowered in the corner afraid that the frothing wildebeest would get loose from the armored grip of her sister.

"I am dearly sorry!" she apologized, her frail voice breaking the rampage. "I just thought that you were boys due to the bulky clothes you wear. There is hardly anything in those clothes that make you look feminine. I didn't know you were into that type of thing."

"WE ARE NOT CROSS DRESSERS EITHER!" Riven spat out making one last attempt to tackle the lady. John, who finished his laughter storm, started to shove Fernandina and Riven out the door.

"Why don't you two wait outside. If you can't resist the urge to kill someone over a little mistake, please feel free to take it somewhere else," John scolded them as he booted them to the curb. The last thing that the girls heard before the door was slammed in their faces was the many apologies from John to the Seamstress and her husband. Riven slumped down on the cement still seething from the battle, her sister stood over her with her arms crossed. The glare from her eye could have froze an ice cube in its tracks, while the shadows from the afternoon sun casted menacing shadows around her armor. Fernandina looked like she could kill.

"Sister," her voice came cold and annoyed. "Why do you have to be so harsh with people? Especially the elderly. You could have given her a heart attack."

"I am not sexist. I deliver my opinion no matter who they are. If that person is an old grandma who can't see the difference between plaid and spotted fabric, then by god, I will give her a piece of my mind. No one calls me a boy. They are gross, arrogant, and not worth a dime of anyone's time," Riven scoffed. Her sister plopped down to the ground next to her, purposely ignoring the fact that her sheathed sword hit the back of Riven's head.

The day dragged on as the clock in the church tower chimed 3:00. The sun beat down on their backs nearly roasting the girl's inside their armor and coats. The people were just as busy as ever running about their own business. Riven was watching dazedly with her chin resting on her knuckles. Fernandina let out a long lasting sigh that nearly knocked the crowding people over.

"Riven," Fernandina said slowly as to approach the subject like it was a rabid dog. "What are we doing here?"

"What do you mean, Fern?" Riven asked shifting around her metal limb which was baking her skin underneath her coat.

"What are we doing here with him, the Colonel? What are we doing in Midtown? What are we doing here? We have no money, we have no leads, we have nothing but our own two feet, and you only got one of those. I just don't like doing nothing." Riven was stabbed because she didn't know as well. When they left for Midtown she never gave a thought of how they were going to do anything, let alone why. It would have been easier to stay home and live their lives the way they were, but they didn't.

"I don't know," she said sadly looking away, afraid she might start to cry. "We came here to find a lead, anything I guess. Anything to fix this, to fix us. I just don't want to go back to Arrington, not like this. I don't want to admit we failed when there is nothing left to fall back on." There was a slight pause like the world was on both of their shoulders. The feeling started to press on them until Fernandina gave a little chuckle. This surprised Riven quite a bit.

"You were never the one to give up on anything, just like dad." Riven punched her arm playfully ignoring the feeling of crushing bones in her knuckles.

"I guess that's one thing that he taught us," Riven said standing up and stretching her back out. The Colonel just stepped out of the store to meet them. He was carrying two large pink bags with blue uniforms in them. They completely contradicted his growling demeanor. John walked over to the girls and gave them the bags to carry. John wasn't going to be caught dead with pink on him.

"Hope you had a nice time," he said tossing one bag to each of them. Riven scowled at the idea of being his pack mule but ignored it as she herself couldn't picture a colonel carrying these frilly bags. "You ready to go to the library?" he asked as if it wasn't even a question. Riven was about to answer but froze. Her face was ghostly white staring across the street into the crowd of people. Her body was completely tense as if in fear and anger at the same time. John dropped down in front of her and waved his gloved hand in front of her face. Her body was a board and her eyes still stood dead. "Fernandina, what's wrong with your sister?" he asked sternly but Fernandina was as flustered as he was.

"I don't know!" she said pushing him out of the way. She started to shake her sister back and forth but to no prevail. "Riven! Come on!" she scolded her as if her voice would pull her out of her trance. John wasn't expecting much to come from Fernandina, who was usually of the quiet nature, but he definitely didn't expect her to pull a round house on her sister. In a sudden flash, the armored girl connected her foot to Riven's right shoulder and sent her flying to the ground. Her expression didn't even show a sign of regret as John stared as if he saw a flying monkey. Riven scrambled to her feet and returned the gesture with a side sweep with her left leg, knocking Fernandina's legs out from under her sending her to the ground in a clatter. The white haired girl leaped upon her sister with her right fist raised to smash the grey matter out of Fernandina's head, even with the protection of the helmet. But Riven paused, her eyes shifted from pure adrenaline rage to normal shocked look. John nearly fainted from the intensity of the moment and was shocked to realize that his hands were raised ready to snap his fingers. Riven got off of her sister and helped her off of the ground.

"Sorry, it was just a reaction," she said more to the colonel that to her own sister. John lowered his hands and shook his head.

"If that's what you're like on a good day, please don't' let me be near you on a bad one," he mumbled to himself.

"Riven what happened? What were you looking at?" her sister asked her, but Riven just shook off her worrying and gave her a reassuring pat on the back.

"It was nothing, I just thought I saw someone I knew. I'll tell you later."

**Okay the suspense is even killing me! I just can't stay up late enough to finish the next chapter. Curse long days and short nights. Okay so I haven't been able to write as much as I wanted to because I had to stay late after school for tech week to prep for the play. It took forever and was very tiring and guess what? I get to do it all again next week for the next play! So I will try to write as much as I can but don't expect much until the productions are over.**


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